I started blogging almost ten years ago, when most of the mommy blogs I came across were glossy, prettified, carefully arranged tableaux of home life. I was absolutely drowning; but the worst trial the other moms suffered, it seemed, was the occasional oopsie of spilled juice or mismatched socks. It was all studio portraits of scrubbed and beaming toddlers clutching a hand-sewed duck stuffed with lavender grown in the herb garden outside ye olde cottage door. I read these blogs obsessively, and came away hating the other moms and hating myself.

The comment box yielded some enlightening responses, though. Charlotte of Waltzing Matilda, says that she has been accused of writing one of those impossibly pretty blogs -- the kind that makes other moms want to jump off a cliff in despair, because their lives don't match up. She was, she said, incredibly hurt to hear that her presentation was construed as some kind of beautified lie designed to make other women feel bad. She says,

I started blogging as therapy ... I was depressed and in the beginning of dealing with an anxiety disorder that I still battle today. All I could see around me was the ugly, the frustrating, the irritating, the four kids under the age of 6 and I felt like I had no power to change it or do anything to make it better. Blogging made me look for the beautiful. It made me seek out the cute things my kids said and did, not focus on the crying and the wiping. It forced me to look outside of myself to see the lovely things that were around me but I couldn’t see because I was too busy worrying about how I felt today, that moment, that second. And as I came out of that funk, I made more of an effort to find the beautiful things to post about hoping to inspire someone else to see the beautiful in their life, someone who was maybe in the same kind of funk.

That had never occurred to me. When I realized that a pretty blog had a bad effect on me, I concluded that they were written either by moms with impossibly charmed lives, or by liars. I shook the pixie dust off my feet and slogged off to build something that seemed to me more "real."

But here was a revelation: many of these pretty blogs are written by moms whose lives looked very much like mine -- but whose method of dealing with their struggles was radically different. Most moms do struggle. Some of us are relieved and invigorated when we hear about other people's struggles; but some of us, like Charlotte, feel even more bogged down. "[T]here are those of us who need to not focus on the struggling so much," she says, "Because if we do, we will be consumed by it."

It's not about what's in the blog. It's about how we respond to it.

You may think this is just a women's issue. And it's true that men are far less likely to sink into self-loathing because they're failing to live up to some stranger's life (I once heard a woman in the craft aisle of Target whimper to her grown son, "I just feel like I'm failing Christmas!" and he looked at her as if to say, "You're failing something, lady . . .); and men are far less likely to seek relief by telling everyone everything, whether good or bad. But there is something that men and women need to hear, if they spend time online:

You can just stop reading, you know. Or just read something else. It's in your control.

Take a good look at what happens to your state of mind if you check out this blog or that website or so-and-so's Facebook or Twitter or Instagram persona. Is something having a bad effect on you? Every time you read a certain author, does it make you feel inadequate or self-righteous, discouraged or contemptuous? Do you spend the rest of the afternoon criticizing yourself or other people? Then just skip it -- or look elsewhere.

This is not an invitation to stop challenging yourself, or an excuse to abandon self-improvement. But by the time you're, say, thirty, you ought to have a pretty good idea of how your mind works. You should be self-aware enough to understand what things motivate you to do better, and which things make you spiral into envy, anger, self-loathing, contempt, or any other besetting sin.

If you do fall into sin when you read someone, it doesn't really matter if it's their fault or yours. Any time I read the words of Josemaria Escriva, I feel like punching someone. Now, if I had this reaction to the words of all the saints, I'd be in big trouble. But I don't. When I read Francis de Sales, I feel like going to confession and then doing something nice for my family. Opus Dei has transformed many a life; but for me, it's an occasion of sin.

Know thyself! Take control! It's a big world, and one of the few parts you can actually do something about is deciding where to spend your time.

“Any time I read the words of Josemaria Escriva, I feel like punching someone.”
Thank you! Josemaria horrifies me.

Posted by Christie on Saturday, Aug, 17, 2013 12:52 PM (EDT):

Rebecca, I find it interesting that you attacked this post as deserving a place only in a private journal or therapy session. You could have stopped reading yourself. A reader can never be “used” for the very reason Simcha pointed out—we are not compelled to read it and can simply click to another blog, or not.

Blessings to all on this glorious day! May every day of the journey bring us closer to Christ.

Posted by Jennifer G. on Monday, Aug, 12, 2013 9:34 PM (EDT):

Amen. I felt guilty ditching a few blogs that made me feel this way because they seemed so “holy” and should be inspiring. But I realized they were only bringing me farther from God.

Posted by plumblossom on Sunday, Aug, 11, 2013 11:32 PM (EDT):

I am fine with someone blogging their kids’ woes when I want to focus on sunshine and butterflies, and I am okay with hearing about Super McAwesome, Jr. when my kids are finge-painting with their poo. That’s all cool. That’s not too different from what real friends are really like in real life.
What I mind is bloggers who are…what is it?...mean. There is a superpopular mommyblogger out there who is funny and entertaining to spend a few minutes with, but she’s so nastily sarcastic that after awhile I realized that even after snickering at her commentaries, I felt down. I felt harsher and meaner. And then there are mommybloggers like Stephanie Nielsen at NieNie Dialogues and whether she’s talking about a triumph or a challenge, after reading her words I feel lifted and a little closer to God. The most “real” people I know are humble and charitable, and that’s what makes a blog (or a novel, or a friend) wonderful to spend time with. Not whether good or bad things happen to them, but how they handle it.
Simcha, my sistah, you really shine at that—finding the pony in the poo. (That’s the second scatogical reference in this post! I’d better stop now.)

Posted by Pam on Saturday, Aug, 10, 2013 1:12 PM (EDT):

MM in case you are referring to my actual post you must not have read the article. There is no extrapolation. Why are you looking to start discord? Based on their seeming to have their acts completely together, Simcha writes, “I came away hating the other mothers and hating myself.” Its right there in black and white. That would be a pretty good definition of resentment. I forgive you.

Posted by Pam on Saturday, Aug, 10, 2013 1:03 PM (EDT):

MM Down boy or girl. I think you are referring to Rebecca.

Posted by Laura on Saturday, Aug, 10, 2013 12:35 PM (EDT):

Exactly, except I feel the opposite. Maybe I have the wrong attitude, but reading about everyone else’s horrible days brings me down. I have enough worries without burdening myself with the petty complaints (I mean day to day stuff) of people I don’t even really know. I find the pretty blogs uplifting and inspirational, even though I know I’ll probably never have it that “together”. I have unsubsribed from wildly popular blogs for this reason—they just left me feeling worse, not better!

Posted by MM on Friday, Aug, 9, 2013 11:07 AM (EDT):

Pam, wow, talk about presumptuous and judgmental:
“what is the source of the resentment?”
I don’t know how you can extrapolate that Simcha is resentful. Simcha strikes me as one of least resentful bloggers I have ever read.

Posted by freddy on Friday, Aug, 9, 2013 8:47 AM (EDT):

Rebecca:
That’s a narrow view. I wonder how many wonderful books would never have been published, or artworks never completed, if others subscribed to your view.
Plenty of readers have benefitted from seeing the beautiful, the creative, the joyful in some blogs. Other readers have benefitted from seeing the real, the wild, and the wonderful in others. The inspiration for the blogs doesn’t matter; the content does. No one is being “used” by reading a blog, for goodness sakes!

Posted by Simcha Fisher on Thursday, Aug, 8, 2013 8:09 PM (EDT):

Wait, so you don’t want to hear about what I found in my ear this afternoon? Nuts, there goes tomorrow’s post.

Posted by Rebecca on Thursday, Aug, 8, 2013 7:33 PM (EDT):

Since when is it OK for someone’s personal therapy session to be in the public domain????
If that’s why you started a blog, you are just using your readers. Get a private journal instead.

Posted by Jane Lazlo on Thursday, Aug, 8, 2013 6:07 PM (EDT):

Yawn

Posted by suzisboy on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 10:19 PM (EDT):

I love the Catholic “Moms” blogosphere, but the comparative, competitive living that it often highlights is nothing new. In my mom’s day (she’s 83), there was always that woman with the perfect hair and svelte clothes who kept an immaculate, crafty house inside of which resided a seemingly great husband and a bunch of kids who all matched the furniture upholstery (and, when in season, the flower garden). She may then have been envied locally, but today she could publish internationally daily, with pictures to remind you of her “togetherness”. My mom was not this woman. Her five kids led happy-go-lucky lives amidst a modestly disheveled home that was picked up frantically about an hour before “company” arrived. She spent little of her waking time on the organization of material things, and lots of time on the needs of my dad and her children. She had flaws which she tried to turn into humor, and bad days that she did her best to keep from us when we were young. She was a poor Catholic mom if you believe that the Gospels emphasize neatness and organization. She was (and is) the greatest of Catholic moms if you think the Gospels emphasize love, charity, generosity, and sacrifice for others. She would have made a great blogger for those who like to keep it “real”. My faithful-to-the magisterium family was steeped in the spirituality of St. Ignatius of Loyola, my favorite Spanish saint by far. The many great families I have come to know associated with St. Josemaria Escriva are wonderful witnesses to the Gospel and to the fact that not all Spanish saints are for everybody. ;-}

Posted by Maria on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 9:58 PM (EDT):

You can just stop reading - so true.
I’m single but I used to read mommy blogs because some have really good recipes but the moment they started talking about their kids and their lives it was all ‘boo-hoo me’ ‘I don’t have any grown ups to talk to’ ‘I have so much laundry’... whatever! So I unplugged from them.
Boo hoo is contagious, I don’t need that.

Posted by Pam on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 9:57 PM (EDT):

Simcha, You are right that we have choices and should choose what brings us closer to the light and goodness, but I was sad to hear that you and many women hate yourselves and other women because someone APPEARS to have it all or to be succeeding better. While avoiding contact with people who are an occasion of sin is important, I hope you still try to overcome the cause of the occasion of sin. Is there anyone you have EVER known who didn’t have a heavy cross? Why can’t we rejoice at each other’s successes and happiness? It is foundational to get to that place but we are in a climate that pits woman against woman and compares and competes relentlessly. We have to totally ignore it or better yet fight against that. While it may be the “real world”, it isn’t Christian. And envy is so destructive. We should hate that sin. You are a beloved, gifted blogger with a large, healthy family and a husband who is still standing by you. And you love Jesus Christ! You already have it all so what is the source of the resentment? It won’t make your cross go away whatever it is. You just have to read your own comment boxes to know that there is no one you need be jealous of. Crush that urge to resent a fellow Christian! Christianity is NOT a competition. God isn’t looking to put us in a pecking order. He would love to see EVERYONE in the front row. Rejoice that there is another saint in the making out there when you read about someone’s great life!

Posted by 12anon on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 9:30 PM (EDT):

I know I say this a lot, Simcha, but I love you…I always thought I was the only one who felt that way about a saint. For me it’s Padre Pio. Especially the stuff about PANTS. I mean, sheesh, dude!

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 7:39 PM (EDT):

Plumblossom, see? There I was ripping on her for all the gush, and I ended up learning a new word: cloying. I delight in a new vocab word. And really, she IS a hardy rose, not a sugary, shrinking violet. I’m glad you discovered her. I need to confront myself from time to time. I was letting her take the fall for a lot of other people that I can’t always fathom. Haha St. J. M. says that this “confrontation” with ourselves needs to happen every day, but I’ve never been good at incorporating it into my nightly routine! Lol,I’m sure this makes more people than me uncomfortable.
(sigh)
...So much of the mountain yet to scale…

Posted by Mary on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 7:12 PM (EDT):

I really appreciate you writing this. I’ve been on the other end of comments similar to what Charlotte has received and it really isn’t fair…and if they read actual posts they’d see it as completely untrue. How sad it is when we view the crosses as more “real” than the resurrection. Both are real. But without the Resurrection the cross just sucks. I need more help to see the Resurrection and for that, I blog. I hope to read other people’s successes and rejoice for them (does it always happen? No. But that’s MY fault, not theirs.) rather than deride them or accuse them of deception or other such nonsense.

Posted by plumblossom on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 6:43 PM (EDT):

Anna Lisa, so funny, I know just who you were talking about, and I just wrote one of her quotes in the margins of one of my LDS study guides. Hah! Of course, I get to approach these things without any baggage. It makes it easier to take.

Posted by freddy on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 6:35 PM (EDT):

Funny, but as I started reading this, I began thinking of Charlotte and Waltzing Matilda. I love her blog—it reminds me to see the beauty around me and appreciate it. I may be biased in that I also know Charlotte IRL, and she’s such a warm, caring, generous person that she would never think her blog was a showcase of a perfect life.
*
Just as many of the “keeping it real” bloggers would probably be surprised to discover that readers like me get itchy reading merry tales of wallowing in dirty diapers, sticky laundry, and things smeared on the walls.
*
But I learned long ago that a literary style that suits one person may not suit another. I was reading a harmless and entertaining mystery series and it took me three books before I realized that, fun as they were, I ended up in a terribly cranky mood when reading them.
*
Catholicism is great in that there are a variety of spiritual writers and saints—something for everyone—even in liturgy! A question, though: if your bishop is a blogger, must one read him? :)

Posted by Iris on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 5:20 PM (EDT):

“Any time I read the words of Josemaria Escriva, I feel like punching someone.”

Which I why I read Simcha Fisher. :)

Posted by RichardGTC on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 3:36 PM (EDT):

I agree with the lady who said, “Well said. Thank you.”

Well said. Thank you.

[Place amusing/clever/thought provoking quote here.]

Posted by mom on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 3:33 PM (EDT):

WOnderful post and comments! HIGHLY recommend the book, My life with the Saints, by James Martin!

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 3:32 PM (EDT):

Anyhow, not to belabor the subject, but St. J.M. deplored partisan arguments/divisions between Catholics. He was a great lover of personal freedom, and affirmed in every way the rights of individuals to have as many (licit)choices in life as possible. The only thing he would deplore is bad faith and calumny. Bad press, and throwing anything under the bus that is good, is not part of the solution, it’s part of the problem.
*Mea culpa on that front too :(

Posted by Katy on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 2:37 PM (EDT):

Thank God someone else feels that way about St. Josemaria’s writings! Or any saint’s. I thought it was just me. Unlike you though, I feel that way about St. Francis de Sales too. And St. John of the Cross. And St. Alphonsus Liguori. And Thomas a Kempis (though I know he is not canonized). And the epistle by St. James. It’s just that the standards of holiness presented in these writings/scriptures is so high and I fall so short I just get discouraged. But when I read Bl. M. Teresa, or St. Therese, or St. Louis de Montfort, the absolute fallen-in-love-with-Jesus zeal comes through and inspires me to holiness based on love rather than guilt. Thank God for the Communion of Saints, there are holy friends to reach every heart!!

Posted by Anon on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 2:30 PM (EDT):

R.C., there’s a definite balance, but as far as I can see it applies to both men and women. How many men have run off and abandoned (or even just bitched at the bar about) wives they perceived as ‘too needy’ or ‘never happy’...because men tend to hear their wive’s insecurities or venting as pleas for action or complaints?

I’m in the process of putting my marriage back together, and it was stunning to realize that my husband thought he was ‘protecting’ me by shutting me out from the hard trials and secret burdens he carried. Not just stunning, it was insulting and enraging. Did he think I was such a wimp? Well, yeah, because he believed that my insecure ramblings on my ‘down’ days were accurate reflections of who I was he. He believed all of the bad things I said about myself and our life, and wrote off the good things as ‘self-delusion’ and ‘wishful thinking’. And in the meantime, he tried to placate me.

Women do not want to be placated. What men and women both need is to learn to avoid assuming responsibility for each other’s happiness, and start taking responsibility for our own!

Anyhow… I don’t know how much that relates to what you wrote, but it’s on my mind (obviously!) So there’s a female POV on men ‘sucking it up’ and hiding their insecurities.

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 1:31 PM (EDT):

Nan, thank you. Cloying language is barf. I’ll bet even she regrets it. Don’t get me wrong, I actually depend on The Little Flower’s spirituality given that I’m just a lowly housewife that will never make it overseas to be a missionary—we become saints and missionaries in the mystical sense through the little things that we do in our day to day life. Opus Dei translates simply to: the work of God, so St. Josemaria’s idea was clearly not entirely original,as Therese had a firm grasp on this “little way”; he simply placed a magnifying glass on the profound reality of it for the secular souls.
I really like what Therese had to say about indulgences. I think that numbering and categorizing helps a certain kind of soul, but like her, I’d rather dispense with the math, and offer them back, going to God with my hands empty like a beggar.
Nan, God Bless you for taking good care of your mother, and defending a spiritual powerhouse. :)

Posted by Nan on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:53 PM (EDT):

I used to take a yoga class, mixed levels. The teacher would say things in class that not everyone understood. She would say, if I say something and you don’t understand, then it’s not for you. By the same token, there’s a saint out there for everyone. The saint you need at a given moment isn’t going to be the saint the next person needs.

Anna Lisa, RE: cloying doctor of the Church, I’ve been told that it’s a translation and era problem. Flowery language was used at the time of her death, beatification and canonization. She has given me much help as I’m doing a lot of service for my mother, who had a stroke. She has also answered questions for me with the scent of roses in the air in a large church with no roses in it.

Posted by Amy Joy on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:52 PM (EDT):

Books, too. You don’t have to finish every book you pick up. You don’t own the author a minute more if the book, the blog, the song or whatever isn’t doing for you what you hoped for. Drop the chilupa.

Posted by Joanne on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:16 PM (EDT):

I recently deleted my Facebook account and I should have done it sooner. Negative posts brought me down. Competitive Mom-ing brought me down. “My life is perfect” posts made me feel like a failure. Watching people who don’t know each other argue on a third parties’ post made me cringe. I used to read my Facebook feed several times a day and I felt worse afterwards most of the time. It took me a while to decided to delete my account because I didn’t want to “miss anything” but really I am mostly just missing stress and bad feelings.

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:09 PM (EDT):

excuse me, affirmed the *reality* that those of us in the secular world are called to the same level of sanctity, as those in the monastery…

Posted by Nico Fassino on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:07 PM (EDT):

Also, even though I read this blog all the time, you can see I am WAY late to the game when it comes to making a visually pleasing comment. Sorry! The period-as-separator would have really helped my comment be legible. Mea culpa!

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:02 PM (EDT):

“but the things that they emphasize are not the things I am called to.”
.
After going on and off to Opus Dei evenings and mornings of recollection for about 23 years, these are the two main points that we are called to understand and embrace:
1. Divine Filiation
We are, each one of us, truly sons and daughters of God
2. Become a saint in the world, in the tumult of daily life;
whether this is in the home, in the fields, in the operating room, the courthouse…whether you are signing laws or scrubbing toilets…
.
St. Josemaria saw in vision, vast populations of people in this world, sanctifying their lives through these two basic principles. He brought scandal in his day when he challenged the notion that those in the secular world are called to the same level of sanctity as the inhabitants of convents and monasteries.
This attitude is already mainstream now and is changing the face of the Catholic world.

Posted by Nico Fassino on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 12:00 PM (EDT):

@Simcha, thanks for the response! I was obviously less than precise in my choice of words. Rather than the bland “you should inspire you equally” in a generic sense, what I meant was this: because each of the saints reflects a facet of God’s unfathomable sanctity and charity in a unique and necessary way (as you aptly described), it is clear that the each canonized saint should inspire us specifically to go to confession, to die away to ourselves, to recognize all the ways we withhold our hearts from the Lord, etc etc etc.

I’m not saying that we must spend equal time reading each saint, or find deep human affinity for all equally! God gives the Church the ability to infallibly know declare that certain people are indeed members of the host of blessed in Heaven. He does so in his overflowing generosity and mercy, so that we have concrete and definite examples of what heroic sanctity looks like — so that we can know with certainty that the narrow and hard road that leads to eternal life can indeed be walked by us sinners.

Do you see the thrust of what I am trying to say? They reflect Christ’s holiness each in a unique way, and are only elevated publicly so that we might find edification and help from a fellow brother or sister who persevered in running the race and has been awarded the crown of life.

Frankly, if a particular saint grates on me, it is precisely because a window into Christ’s sanctity and love is being displayed in a very particular way through them that demonstrates my need for reconversion.

It is one thing to say “St. Josemaria’s exhortation to consciously make all our work (no matter how insignificant) a deliberate prayer to God for the sanctification of the world is difficult for me to understand. I have a hard time concretely applying these teachings in my struggle for virtue. I personally just can’t wrap my mind around this idea of apostolate and labor.”

But it is another thing to say “St. Josemaria’s exhortation to consciously make all our work (no matter how insignificant) a deliberate prayer to God for the sanctification of the world is difficult for me to understand. I have a hard time concretely applying these teachings in my struggle for virtue. This makes me upset and I am just going to write him off.”

My personal example: St. Theresa of Avila was a cloistered nun in Spain who lived in a time without technology and who was given a beautiful grace of mystical interior life. None of this is remotely similar to my life in any way. However, when I read her writings, I recognize her sanctity and the truth of what she says and recommends. I recognize that she is lifted up by the Church to serve as an example and help for me.

Even if I don’t understand or can’t apply her advice for prayer in my life, I don’t assume that I can ignore her or set her aside. And, if she says things that irritate me on a human or spiritual level, the fault is in my own heart.

Posted by TRS on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 11:33 AM (EDT):

Thanks R.C. for that perspective on the male mind.
I think there is middle ground between being able to share concerns… or coming off as Mr-I-Can’t-Keep-It-Together.
But you’re also right, there was a man I dated who was struggling between keeping his own business going, and looking for corporate work which would allow him to leave his business behind. I had a lot of confidence in him and believed he would pull it all together one way or the other.
In the years since, he’s still in the same position, and has shared with me - and while I respect that, I’m no longer interested in dating or marrying him. Not sure if it’s because he shared his weaknesses so openly, or if it’s because we’re not that compatible.
.
.
For all of you mommies… if you want to feel better about your lives and households, maybe you should read more singles blogs! That should put things in perspective.
No one necessarily deserves to have a spouse and a family. It’s just that your graces were distributed differently (and commonly)

Posted by Simcha Fisher on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 11:26 AM (EDT):

@Nico Fassino: No, it’s not off topic at all! I couldn’t disagree more with this statement: “All of the lives and writings of the saints should inspire you the same way as Francis de Sales obviously does.” The Church graciously provides us with the example of so many different kinds of saints, with their various charisms, talents, and visions of sanctity, because there are so many different kinds of sinners in the world.

.

I really don’t want to get into specifics about Escriva or Opus Dei, but the things that they emphasize are not the things I am called to. The methods they propose are not the methods that work on me. I am quite sure that, if you looked hard enough, you could find a saint, or a type of spirituality, that grated on you.

.

Saying “all the saints should inspire you equally” is like saying “You should enjoy all music equally.” But we all know that Bach is not the same as Chopin is not the same as Stravinsky. I can acknowledge the musical genius in each, but they affect me in very different ways, and yes, I have preferences! This is just what it means to be human: it means you’re a specific person seeking to become the kind of person God wants you to be, not just Humanity Seeking Holiness.

Posted by Nico Fassino on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 11:12 AM (EDT):

How on earth does Josemaria’s writings make you upset or want to punch somebody? Simcha, I love you and this blog, but… what? All of the lives and writings of the saints should inspire you the same way as Francis de Sales obviously does.

Can you explain this a bit? (I know it’s off topic, but I am always baffled to hear about faithful Catholics who have difficulties with Opus Dei).

Posted by Mike on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 10:26 AM (EDT):

Whether you expected it to or not, your column resonates strongly with this male reader. I’m going to oversimplify here, a lot, but a big part of what I think it comes down to is that I’m way oversensitive to what I perceive as authenticity, or the lack thereof. How many of us have known someone who seemed to talk Sunshine And Puppies 24x7 but whose overall witness was a real downer? It’d be so much easier for me to empathize with somebody like that if they would just have enough vulnerability to say, “You know what? I really feel like poop a lot of the time.”

That of course doesn’t excuse me of the need to feel (or to pray to feel) empathy anyhow, which is basically affective charity. Because Sunshine And Puppies or no, there is a fallen, vulnerable human behind the talk and the witness. Everybody on earth may feel like poop at least a bit of the time, but agitating the poopy feeling is hardly within my remit. To pray and to be receptive and responsive to opportunities for their (and my) infusion by and into the Eucharistic Body of Christ is the limit of my job description if I choose to remain in the bounds of charity.

To be sure, that is a pretty big job description. And it is a choice I am always free not to make, which accounts for much of my responsibility for what’s wrong with the world.

Posted by sara mcd on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 10:14 AM (EDT):

Blogs are not real life. In real life, I like to keep it real. In blogland, I like a little pretty. And funny.

Posted by mrscracker on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 9:51 AM (EDT):

I don’t know if this gentleman in Brazil has a blog, but if not, he should:

“Paulo Henrique Machado has lived almost his entire life in hospital. As a baby he suffered infantile paralysis brought on by polio, and he is still hooked up to an artificial respirator 24 hours a day. But despite this, he has trained as a computer animator and is now creating a television series about his life. “
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-23364127

Posted by Cathy on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 9:14 AM (EDT):

And is this why I always make time to read *this* blog. Nice balance of hope with frustration, or hope out of frustration. Real life, in other words, without being too depressing about it. As a non-mom I can’t judge myself by Simcha’s mom stories, but from them I do learn about faith, life, God.

And the second part on just turn it off - we seem to have forgotten that in our culture. The blog, the TV, the cell phone….they can all go off, we can get restored and refreshed. And we can come back with better discernment of what, as my spiritual director would say, is “life giving” vs “life draining.”

I also think I see more clearly, perhaps by being older, perhaps by being in the internet age, how anger can consume our lives. I see why anger is called a “deadly sin” - it’s so easy to let it take over until we aren’t happy unless we’re angry about someone or something, be that in the news, someone at work, or someone writing a blog. Scarey thing, really, for such a destructive emotion to have so much control if we aren’t careful.

Posted by Eileen on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 7:47 AM (EDT):

This past presidential election I was so upset with the outcome, I pretty much banned all news (and all liberals) from our home for several weeks. It became a family joke - “Close that webpage! - Mom’s blood pressure’s going up!” “Oh no, we’re having the family Christmas (my husband’s family is about 50% raving liberals) - Mom’s gonna have a stroke!”
.
On the other hand, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten much more dismissive of people. For instance - I not only wouldn’t read a hearts and flowers adoption blog, I would write the author off in my mind with, “You’ll see lady - everything’ll be fine ‘til your kid’s in jail.” Not that my own kids won’t end up in jail, but at least I won’t be blindsided by it. ;) Anyway, I’ve gone too far over the other side. I need some more compassion for people with different worldviews.

Posted by Marissa Nichols on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 2:06 AM (EDT):

Really appreciate this one! The biggest challenge is always “keeping it real"not only in blogging but just life in general…I don’t want to be the negative Nellie, and I don’t want to be flogs-you-with-sunshine either. The solution: well, I don’t know if there is one, actually.

Posted by anna lisa on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 1:26 AM (EDT):

plumblossom, I do get it. In all honesty I have a small problem with another Catholic saint, only I know that she’s what we call a “doctor of the church”. I can relate to some really great things that she said and did. She’s just not my type here below, and I’m sure that the problem is mine. Her pre-turn-of-the-century flowery language makes me a tad vilolent too. That’s the big hint. I *know* with all certainty that she’s a freaking gladiator.
I can’t wait to do shots in heaven with her, where we will laugh about it.

Posted by Luci on Wednesday, Aug, 7, 2013 1:08 AM (EDT):

R.C.: wow, what an insightful comment. That makes SO much sense to me, and explains SO much about aspects of the relationship between men and women. Thank you very much for the explanation; that was like a big piece of the puzzle going firmly into place.

Posted by R.C. on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 10:12 PM (EDT):

Question for you ladies:

What makes you believe that, and I quote, “...men are far less likely to sink into self-loathing because they’re failing to live up to some stranger’s life” ...?

I’m not at all confident that’s true.

But I agree that “...men are far less likely to seek relief by telling everyone everything, whether good or bad.”

Yes. That’s definitely true.

Have you considered why?

All men feel negative, worried, self-loathing, failing-to-live-up-to-XYZ, especially during economic hard times such as we’ve been experiencing for the last several years, and especially when the man is raising children in such a toxic culture as our own. The degree varies from one man to another, of course, not merely because personalities vary, but because circumstances vary. I guarantee you, however, that the feelings are there, and powerful.

However, there is a very low threshold beyond which a man may not express such feelings. It’s not merely that women consciously prefer not to be married to worry-worts, failures, et cetera...although that’s true. But it’s also that women’s instincts react differently to projected confidence, calmness, and having things under control (provided it’s a realistic projection and not a sign the guy’s out-of-touch with reality).

A man projecting the right “vibes” thereby does much to maintain his wife’s romantic interest in him (all other things being equal). Conversely, a man expressing too much agitation or worry, admitting to failure, expressing problems without solutions: That kind of guy can literally talk his wife out-of-love with him. Intellectually she may not make the connection between her abated desire for him and his expressed worries, but that’s immaterial, because her behavior towards him will be affected at the gut level. She “can’t help that she’s not feeling charged up tonight” and since there are always many possible explanations for THAT, blame can’t be reliably placed on the guy’s worrying aloud. All the same, it makes a difference, and for perfectly easy-to-explain evolutionary-psych kinds of reasons.

So while many women are in the habit of saying things like, “I wish he’d open up to me” and “I wish he’d talk more,” and while this is of course not a lie in the sense of intentional deception, there are limits to it: A guy had better excise from his conversation the negative, worried, self-loathing, failing-to-live-up-to-XYZ half of what he’s feeling. Otherwise he’s just undermining himself and causing himself more problems. The half that’s left over is the half of a man’s thoughts that women tend to get: And if they love their husbands and want to go on convincing their gut-level instincts that they’re IN love with their husbands, then, why, that’s exactly how it should be!

Most men understand this instinctively, even if they can’t express it precisely. Sure, some men were duped by cultural propaganda into believing that they could safely unload all their worries on their wives…but many of those learned to reverse-course after they experienced the bad effects on their relationships!

And of course men who’ve had good leadership skills modeled to them (in business, in the armed forces, by their own fathers) frequently learn to attenuate their expressions of worry under the heading of “being an effective leader.” You don’t increase morale, in the Army or in the Family, by letting the troops see you fret about every damn thing that might go wrong!

A few men still haven’t gotten the message, and they are the kind of men women find exasperating rather than attractive. If they were married, they often aren’t any longer; if they still are, there is often a sense that their wife is the one holding things together and getting stuff done.

Anyway, ladies, that’s the deal. Thought you might want to know.

Posted by Lisa R on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 9:49 PM (EDT):

Thank you. I have been reading a book as a reviewer, and certain aspects of the plot have been making me very uncomfortable, but for some reason I felt that I needed permission to stop reading. I just emailed the author and told her that I do not feel that I can review her book. This post was just what I needed to hear.

Posted by Caitlin on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 9:11 PM (EDT):

I appreciate this Simcha, but I tend to be in Charlotte’s camp. I get more depressed the more I read about how hard it is to be a mother, because it seems to me that the “keep it real” types only see the real as negative. Your blog doesn’t (I’m not blowing smoke here, I mean it) but soooooo many do. BUT I don’t write them hate comments, and I don’t continue obsessing about it, I just don’t read them. Because, at some point I realized that not everything that everyone else writes about in their blog is for me. lol. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want things to seem like a perfectly staged nuthouse, but I also don’t want to read every. day. about how hard it is to have X number of kids, or a 2 year old, or whatever.

Posted by Jamie Jo on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 9:03 PM (EDT):

I had to take a break the beginning of June for just these reasons, a break from reading other blogs. I started getting jealous and having bad feelings towards other women and their “perfect” lives. Even that of friends (who blog). I had to distance myself and slowly return and only read when I can, reading mostly the ones I originally read way back when I first started reading blogs.

I try to show the good and the bad for these very reasons. I don’t want anyone leaving my blog feeling bad about their lives. I am NOT all that. Yet, when I wrote about it in June, I had 1 woman write me and explain why she feels jealous of me. It was a really nice and charitable letter. I think to myself, “How can anyone be jealous of me?” and then think of all the negative things about myself and my life. Balance. It must be all balanced. The good and the bad.

I think blogging for me is a place of “Jamie”. A place of what I love. I struggle with being negative, so I make myself think of thankful things constantly, otherwise I’d become a negative monster. And that is catchy.

Balance I guess is the key. What’s that saying? Something about how will people be after they see you, better or worse off? I think it is a Mother Teresa quote…

Thanks for writing this. Loved it and obviously I can relate.

Posted by Carolyn Simonds on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 9:00 PM (EDT):

You are my favorite blogger….Real without blatant attempt to entertain…

Posted by plumblossom on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 8:43 PM (EDT):

anna lisa, I’m trying to think of the LDS equivalent. It seems like some people “hear” some apostles better than others. I think if I were to have an LDS patron saint, mine would be Chieko Okazaki. She was amazing at being upbeat without ever glossing over life’s difficulties.
and, someone cooking three squares a day for me? I’d give just about anything a hearing for that! hah!

Posted by plumblossom on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 8:38 PM (EDT):

I run into this dichotomy sometimes here in Mormonland too, Simcha, whenever personal journals come up. Some people believe in only writing Nice Things, the places where good things happened, a focus on the positive. Many advocate writing how you really feel and then ripping it up and throwing it away. I belong to the Dirty Laundry camp—how are my grandkids going to believe I’m a real person unless I show my street cred? Without a context of difficulty, how will anyone else appreciate the small miracles in my life? Besides, most of the blessings in my life have come wrapped in trials. I often didn’t see God’s presence in the muck until much later. If I had limited myself to writing only the things I discerned God in on the day they happened, I’d miss all the retroactive acts of Providence. Seeing that is what journals are FOR.
Yes, we need to avoid anything that leads us astray. For me that’s anything with zombies, child abuse stories or sparkly vampires.
Thanks Simcha!!! I so love how you keep things real.

Posted by anna lisa on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 8:27 PM (EDT):

I’m a sloppy reader, I admit it, I forgot that you said that it was the writings of the saint of O.D. *himself* that gets you violent, (not everyone else) In all fairness, care to share one or two? There is *one* that really sets me off, (it has to do with a soft carpet—which translates too closely to “doormat” for me) but I find my combined “The Way, Furrow, The Forge” such words to live by that I keep a copy in my car too.
Come on, cough it up.
I’m just really curious, and *do not* work for, or am a member of the organization…

Posted by Matchingmoonheads on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 7:05 PM (EDT):

so true! we have this in the ‘infertility blogosphere’, since they seem to be separate and all, as well. the happy ones that are always talking about what a gift infertility is, so much so you’re probably wondering why those girls are writing about it at all if its really so hunky dory, and then the ‘keeps it real’ blogs where they just constantly let everyone know about every little thing that went wrong, in hopes of finding some solidarity with someone else who’s bothered by the suckiness of it all. i have infertile friends who just don’t go to the blogs at all because reading about anything sad brings them down. its so smart to know yourself, rather than just beat your self up every day by reading something that’s going to hurt you!

matchingmoonheads.wordpress.com

Posted by me too! on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 6:34 PM (EDT):

“Any time I read the words of Josemaria Escriva, I feel like punching someone.” Hahahahahahah!!

Omg, this is so true for me too. Much of what I have read by him, and much of what I have read by Opus Dei bloggers does not resonate with me At All. (Ha, understatement!) And yet I can clearly see that some folks really get a lot of out it. I guess I am not the whole congregation, right?

Thanks for the post, SF.

Posted by Jordan on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 5:33 PM (EDT):

I loved this article. I can understand the tendency to get bogged down by reading “nitty gritty” and wanting to make a blog about looking for the good point of view that Charlotte must have, but I think my reaction is more like yours, Simcha. Except it’s more of an giant eyeroll at all the “Look at my facebook pictures of me and my perfectly dressed, clean cut husband and all the crafts he enjoys helping me make!”, because usually my problem isn’t feeling like *other* people are better than *me*. For all I know (and I certainly hope), those clean cut guys really are happy shopping for drapes…I suppose not every gal was looking to marry the bearded t-shirt and jeans guitar player in the choir, lol.

I finally had to take the just don’t look approach when it comes to baby-care (especially feeding) articles/blogs. That’s certainly not what a brand new 24-year-old mom version of myself struggling to be “perfect” (because otherwise your baby will be stupid and sick all the time and then probably die, of course!) needed to read - only wished I’d done it sooner than I had! I even did myself a favor and cancelled any subscriptions I had, just so I would only be visiting even the ones I liked when I had time to kill or was in a good (or at least stable) mood.

Posted by anna lisa on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 5:29 PM (EDT):

Would someone please tell me how Mommies have so much *time* to read so many blogs? Every once in a while I’ll click on a new blog link and they might have like 85 blogs that they read on the side bar. What’s up with that?
I remember the day I stumbled upon Simcha Fisher :)—it was a litle vignette about a trip to the emergency room. I don’t think I’d laughed that hard in days if not weeks.
Hook. line, and stinker. Thanks be to God.
.
Haha, I have a special place in my heart for Opus Dei. I wonder if some of them get even more uptight on the East Coast…Yes, the goody-goody vibe can get to you, not to mention the fitted blazers, pearls and pumps…or the whole-grained-super-modesty of the granola-ed out homeschoolers with perpetually pained/angelic countenances… Grrrrr! (occasion of sin, indeed)
I hadn’t been on a retreat in years, and was already dreading all the beefed up wholesomeness. A few unflattering words wafted into my brain, as I defiantly packed my jeans, a couple of skirts that were pushing the envelope, and some in-your-face sexy sandals, but then, in all reality, to my relief—(disappointment?) I found that I was no rebel at all, and actually half the women were dressed like me. The priest who led the retreat was positively huggable, (I know, I know, not allowed), and intelligent as always—but here’s the *kicker*. I HAD A ROOM ALL BY MYSELF in that lovely manor house. Just me ‘n Jesus. I hadn’t been alone in well over a decade…and, AND I didn’t cook those lovely, artfully prepared meals, served on linens, freaking three times a day—what mother could argue with that? The priest could have barked at the moon, and I was already in a state of bliss.
BUT.
During a talk on modesty, when the the director of the retreat, whom I really did like, gave that tired OPUS DEI STORY about the guy in the communion line, who pulled the young girl out of line because her jeans made him unable to receive communion, I. was. livid. On the way home from the retreat the five of us discussed this. That story has got to go.
Other than that, we were blissfully happy with the whole thing, and were floating on a little pink cloud.
When my daughter went to an Opus Dei talk a few months later, she really enjoyed it, and thought the priest was great. When she complained a little about the structure/stuffiness of it, I commiserated with her, but we both agreed that the positives vastly outweigh the negatives. My fifth is at the camp they put on in L.A. right now. Every one of my three older sons LOVED those camps. They’re cheap too.
Okay,‘nuff said.

Posted by mary on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 5:28 PM (EDT):

I love this. It seems in the world of social media world, even grown up adults forget personal accountability. No one is making you read the thing that is upsetting you. No one is making you waste time on electronic devices…etc…those are YOUR choices. It isn’t the blog, facebook, twitter or instagram’s fault. Thanks for the reminder.

Posted by Kaitlin on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 1:05 PM (EDT):

well, aren’t you just so annoyingly convicting. dang it.

Posted by Monica Weiss on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 12:59 PM (EDT):

So true. I think for me the age was more like 40. That’s when I started to think…whatever, wtf?, or ...really? who cares? I LIKE IT…without consulting 50 other people. I am on my own developmental continuum.

Posted by mrscracker on Tuesday, Aug, 6, 2013 12:47 PM (EDT):

Very well put, thanks!

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